Suburbia

Where has the utopia in you disappeared…?
What are you these days but an epitome of endlessness?
Endless lines of people like cattle going for slaughter
Endless lines of vehicles like a reeking sweltering factory

Your underground is a bloated belly
You are pregnant with the unwanted seeds of filth inside you
But your spawns flood your overground
And you shamelessly view the massacre

I weave through your maze seeking, discovering
I sit inside your metal children
Those that rattle the chains that binds them
And let out siren like wails
As though in constant pain…
I look out of the window and see blurs
Streams of neon lights,
Like comets on earth
I see faces
Full of featurelessness
These faces look back at me
Are they wondering at my featurelessness?

A blind musician enters
Striking a discordant chord
Makes us open our open eyes
And look at him (in)sightfully
And he gazes back sightlessly
Continuing out of sync
Reminds me of my effort at trying to sync life
And failing miserably.

And yet you intoxicate me
With your sights and sounds and smells and moves
I go away in disgust and you watch me leave
With a secret smile
You know that I will return…